Ten Years and Counting
by Xenia van Hausen
Summary: Alfred is finally together with Arthur after ten years of waiting.


_March 10, 2013_

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**Ten Years and Counting**

Alfred holds back a gasp as he un-scrunches his eyebrows and looks into Arthur's eyes with unabashed adoration. He slowly runs his palms along the outline of Arthur's body, amazed that he really _does _have _Arthur _in his hands, in his bed. Alfred has loved him for so, oh-so-long, and when Arthur finally relented, Alfred couldn't stop himself from pumping his hands in the air and lifting Arthur from the ground, but not without punches to his shoulder blade as Arthur threw curses at him _to calm the fuck down. _After some unstable spins, Alfred stared up into Arthur's eyes, his arms tightening even more around Arthur's lower back, and declared his love, so many times already that he has forgotten.

At twenty-three, Alfred feels like he is on top of the world. Ten years of hard work, of unrequited affections, of painful persistence, he manages to call Arthur _his. _He murmurs another _I love you _as Arthur kisses down his collarbone, and he doesn't even need to have sex with Arthur if he could only wrap his arms around him and hold him close. Alfred remembers the first time he confessed, a decade ago when Arthur was seventeen and young, throwing caution to the wind as he pierced his ears and donned his black combat boots. Alfred was enraptured. There is no other way to phrase it. Alfred was young, too, and naïve as he believed in true love and finding The One. And he still believes he has found him.

Alfred smiles into Arthur's kiss, but as Arthur pulls away, Alfred quickly wraps his arms around Arthur's waist and tugs, their chests falling flush against each other. "Give me a real kiss," Alfred half-whines, the pout coming through his voice and Arthur laughs. Alfred really pouts _then, _shooting a downright insulted expression at Arthur, whose laughter titters to an end and he whispers, _Yes, my love, _and presses their lips together again. Alfred's mouth parts in a silent cue for Arthur to take the lead and kiss him senseless, and he goes _absolutely crazy _with the tongue down his throat.

It hadn't always been like this, all perfect-love and perfect-life, when Alfred shouted his love for Arthur in a jumbled mess of words. They were standing in his backyard, on the makeshift swings hanging from a tree as Alfred mustered up the courage to tell the love of his life his feelings and hoped he had a chance, at the least. He dared not to hope they were _returned. _He kept his eyes clenched, unknowingly clutching the ropes of the swing tight enough that his knuckles went white and the pads of his palms went red.

"_I…Al…"_

Alfred could hear the guilt in Arthur's voice and he panicked. His head shot up and his eyes went wide, the bright-blue in them clear and beautiful and _young. "No, Arthur—you don't have to say it. But—but it's true. Don't tell me that I'm only thirteen and that I don't know what I'm talking about. It's true. It's _true_." _He stared at Arthur, pleading for him to believe his words, to _please, don't chalk it up to me being only a teenager._

Arthur smiled wryly. _"You'll find someone you really do love in the future. Someone who's not me."_

Alfred sucks on Arthur's tongue and his heart beats faster at the gasp that runs down his throat. _Oh man, _he thinks, _oh man—_and he forgets the rest of it as Arthur shifts his body and straddles Alfred's hips. Their jeans are tight and thick and Alfred slips a finger into the hem of Arthur's pants and is about to tug, when Arthur _lifts his hips _and kisses Alfred deeper. Alfred lets out a choked breath and Arthur pulls away with a smirk, running his tongue over the top of his lips. Alfred's chest heaves, his mouth hanging open as he stares dumbfounded and powerless to pull Arthur back down.

He was sixteen when he tried confessing to Arthur another time. It was at a family party that Alfred's dad and stepmom was throwing. Their fathers were best friends. Alfred scoured the room for Arthur as he kept his half-brother company. While he was usually the one bubbling and rattling off about one thing or another, Matthew had to try and keep the conversation going this time. "_Arthur's _twenty_, Alfred_," he sighed, and that got his brother's attention, his head jerking to face him with wide, surprised eyes.

"_What's that supposed to mean?" _

Matthew rolled his eyes. "_That _means, _Alfred, that he's not interested in a high schooler who isn't even legal yet."_

"_What? I wasn't even thinking about that!"_

"_Which means you were thinking about Arthur, though."_

Alfred opened his mouth to retort, but he had to settle with, "_So?"_

Matthew shook his head. "_Can't you see that he likes Francis?"_

Alfred stared, blank-faced as he looked back at Arthur, standing with Francis—Francis, their step-brother who was about to finish college and was the lady's man.

"_I do. But that doesn't mean I don't love Arthur anymore."_

And Matthew sighed.

**.x.**

Alfred pushes Arthur up and flips them around, panting as Arthur gives him an irritated quirk of the eyebrows. Alfred smiles sheepishly and pecks his lips as his hand reaches for Arthur's zipper and slides it down. He hurriedly pulls both their pants off as Arthur leans back and watches, an amused glint in his devilishly green eyes. "A little impatient, Alfred?"

Alfred snaps his head up, his own face twisted in an unamused frown. "I've waited for ten years."

Arthur's expression softens and he murmurs, "I know." He lifts his hand and beckons for Alfred to come closer, before his cups the back of Alfred's head and pulls him in for a kiss again. Alfred forgets what he was about to do and moans into Arthur's mouth when he feels a hand rubbing his thighs. He shifts uncomfortably, but Arthur doesn't let him move when he wraps his fingers around Alfred's cock and pets it with his thumb. "I'm sorry." He aligns their members together and pulls Alfred's hand down, guiding both their hands to pump. Alfred's elbows threaten to buckle and he almost falls on top of Arthur, but he forces himself to stay up. Arthur pushes him down, though, and crawls back over Alfred as he moves his hips and rubs against Alfred.

He leans down and tells Alfred in a breathless whisper, "I love you."

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**_A/N: _**_Sorry for cutting it so short, and I hope this made sense!_


End file.
